NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter 11: Guilt
“~Open the door you FUCKING WHORE!~”
Anne hyperventilated as she watched her room’s door shake inside its weathered frame.
Her father’s every bang threatened to finally make the old, moldy wood give in and leave nothing between herself and the result of whichever minor slight it was that had upset him this time. Each time, she backed further into the corner, to little effect beyond draining the heat out of her body even faster.
“~Once I get in there, I’m gonna fucking KILL that RAT of yours, OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!~”
Immense as her fear about her own safety was, though, worries about Ember were even brighter. The teeny Fennekin bundled in against her front, seeking refuge from the hell that awaited her outside of her human’s embrace.
Anne tried to think of something, anything she could do. She could’ve sworn there should’ve been a window nearby, but there wasn’t, there never was. They were cornered, and only had to live as long as it took the drunkard meters away to break down the final barrier before him.
“~OPEN!~”
A large crack sprouted from the top of the door, almost cleaving it in half. Anne shrieked in horror as she held Ember even tighter, keeping her from looking at the unfolding terror. The only comfort she could provide the lil’ fox in their last moments.
“~THE!~”
The second strike broke away enough of the rotten wood to let Anne get a peek of the furious, bloodshot eyes on the other side of the doorway, and the bared, rotting teeth underneath them. All she could do in the face of that horror was close her eyes and curl up even tighter, bracing for whatever was to follow.
“~FUCKING!~”
“I don’t think you need to see any more of this...”
“~DOOR!~”
The whispered voice made Anne look up just in time for the final strike to break the door apart—followed by reality itself.
Everything dissolved into colorful, sparkling glitter before fading away into darkness, leaving her staring at nothing as her dream-numbed brain tried to process it all. In an instant, it was only her, Ember, and… someone else left.
As terrifying as the sight of a Mismagius would normally be, the unreality of everything around her heavily dulled its impact. After a brief stare, Anne looked down at the fox she’d been trying to comfort all along, only for her to be very different, too.
Larger…?
Taller…?
Was she wearing something…?
Anne was too dumbfounded and shellshocked to notice the sluggishness of her thoughts. The confusion that underlaid them was still there, though, trying to make heads and bushy tails of the bipedal fox resting on her lap.
“Hmmm... I suppose it won’t hurt...” an unknown voice whispered, making her look up at the ghost once more. Their crooked smile grew as their yellow eyes glowed. The surrounding darkness warbled, and one blink later, Anne found herself in another kind of darkness entirely.
More and more of her sensations came to as she stared at the tent’s ceiling, too dark to make anything out of. A glance to the right provided her something to focus on; the bluish moonlight just strong enough to render the distant treetops visible and to illuminate the bed she rested on. The raggedy blanket was warmer than she would’ve—
…
Oh?
It wasn’t until Anne tried to shift on the soft bedding that she actually felt the furry, warm weight on her chest and side. The awareness of something else being this close to her almost made her try scrambling away there and then—at least until she realized how familiar some of these sensations were.
The weight, the warmth, the texture, both of the softer fur against her shift and the warmer, rougher one pressing against her collarbone. The more Anne thought, the more details crept out from the recesses of her memory.
…
Wait...
The limited lighting and the shawl covering them made it difficult to make out who the stranger was. Difficult, but not impossible—with a large, triangular ear sticking out through the hole in the fabric telling. Not quite like a Fennekin, more like a Braixen, like the pictures in the encyclopedias she’d tried to read to process her grief before it backfired hard on her.
…
It couldn’t be...
The body shape fit, the size fit. Trepidation gripped Anne’s mind as she reached to pull back the hood on the fox’s head. She tried to suppress the realization that had been building up all along, lest it all turned out to be a freak coincidence and she’d have to experience the pain of having to let go of Ember again—
That Braixen was wearing an eyepatch on the same eye Ember couldn’t see out of.
The girl’s eyes went wide as the mental dam she’d set for herself began to buckle and shatter, her tiny body shaking at the growing realization—
“~E-Ember...? EMBER!~”
Anne couldn’t care an iota less about how much noise she made as blinding, overwhelming joy filled her mind. She cat up to comfort her friend as her right arm reached to scoop Ember into as close a hug as she could manage—the same position they used to spend hours in. Or as close an approximation as possible, considering she just didn’t fit anymore.
As much as she wanted to scream in joy, soon enough Anne found herself fighting through tears as she curled her body around her one flame of hope, now reignited into a roaring inferno. Warm enough to drive her strain and exhaustion away, leaving only bliss and relief.
Just as her jubilant exclamation had turned into a silent, intense hug, that hug slowly turned into quiet, held-in sobs.
Her fears about how Ember was doing, about if she’d ever find someone that would love and protect her, about her having been put down or handed off to a notice trainer—all of them left her strained mind, one tear at a time, wetting her shirt as the sleeping fox’s chest expanded and contracted into her own. She was safe; they were finally safe...
As Anne clung to Ember, not wanting to let go for the next forever, the adrenaline rush accompanying her revelation began to fade. Her breaths grew shakier as she burned through the last of her emotional high, leaving her aching, drowsy—and with Ember beside her, once more.
Considering neither her shout nor the hug that followed had woken her up, she must’ve been just as exhausted. Anne chuckled weakly at the thought as she snuck her hand inside Ember’s hood and stroked her between the ears. It’s been years, but she still remembered exactly how to do it just right, as if no time had passed at all.
“~I-I’m here, I-I’m here…~” she whispered, calm repetition soothing her psyche as she drifted closer and closer to total exhaustion. She closed her eyes for just a moment, only for a quiet, unnatural whisper to snap Anne back to full awareness. She gasped, holding the lil’ fox tighter as she scanned for threats.
A pair of glowing, telltale yellow-red eyes staring at her from a few feet was as definite a threat as they got. Anne twisted herself as she tried to scoot away from the ghost, a shriek of fear caught in her throat.
The Mismagius’ attempt to approach her earned it a similarly horrified whine, audible this time. Pitiful as it was, it made the bringer of curses stop in its tracks with another drawn-out whisper. Anne had no idea whether these were the terrifying, mind-breaking incantations she’d read about, or if they were something else altogether. Either way, she was powerless to stop them, only able to clench her eyes shut and curl up with Ember in her arms, bracing for whatever was to follow.
And then… nothing did. Nothing painful or threatening, at least.
She heard the ghost’s whispers once more, drawn out and… more melodic this time, almost rhythmic. They droned on with a rudimentary yet ethereal tune, one that dug deep into Anne’s psyche with each syllable. Sound by sound, the tension in her body evaporated, the terror gripping her mind lost power, even the aching in her left arm diminished to the point of being ignorable. And then; it ended, leaving Anne with an emptier, calmer mind.
Anne used some of the reclaimed brainpower to redouble her efforts to provide Ember all the attention she’d been owed over the past year, and the rest to dare look up from her impromptu hiding spot.
The Mismagius was now much closer, most of its body illuminated by the moonlight. Easily in reach was she to untangle her arm from around Ember, floating low enough to be on eye level with her. Its—their—angular smile grew larger, and yet less contorted as they made eye contact.
Curiously, they were holding a book in one of their front tendrils. Anne’s focus shifting towards it made the ghost laugh, the sound chipper and breathy. At a certain level, she knew she ought to be afraid, but she just… wasn’t.
She didn’t have the time to dwell on that absence of sensation before the ghost hovered closer, and placed the book down beside her. They then reached with the freshly freed tendril to pet her on the head; gentleness combining with a weird mix of physical coldness and spiritual warmth, filling her with reassurance. It felt much nicer than she ever expected a creature like this to feel like.
Even despite Anne’s exhaustion, the repetitiveness of that thought didn’t go unacknowledged.
“~Th-thank you...~”
The ghost bowed their hatted head, light pets continuing for a while longer before their focus was suddenly drawn to… the nearest wall. Before Anne could really notice, their gaze shifted along the wall in tune with approaching, muffled sounds, until something entered the room.
Anne had no idea what; the being obscured by the darkness. Their noises sure weren’t, though—as quietly as they were tried to be pronounced, the mews, purrs, hisses and growls kept catching the girl’s attention, putting her on edge.
For a few moments, the ghost and the unknown being talked, the former glancing at her a few times. The chitchat ending didn’t bring her any relief, though—the opposite, if anything. It made the unknown creature approach closer, a brief golden glimmer the only sign of their existence as Anne leaned away from them.
They walked around her bed before seeming to dig into her bag—at least if the shuffling of cloth and a few thuds were any indication. Anne could only hold her breath as she listened in; hold her breath and comfort herself by petting Ember. Eventually, the rustling finally stopped—
Before something cold and smooth touching her exposed arm made Anne jump.
The object was then placed down beside her, brain taking its time processing the events as the stranger walked further back into the room. Begrudgingly, she unwrapped her arm from around Ember, before reaching towards the unknown item.
And grabbed the cheap plastic flashlight she took from the house’s toolbox on that fateful evening. Once the realization hit her, Anne did the first thing that came to mind. She pointed the tool toward where she last heard the noises come from and turned it on with a satisfying click—just in time to realize why that was a bad idea.
Thankfully, the Weavile she’d inadvertently flashed only flinched and squinted—as opposed to any more… drastic reaction.
“~S-sorry!~”
The cone of light was immediately redirected towards the ceiling, lighting up the room enough to make out the Dark-type from their namesake darkness without having to blind anyone else. To Anne’s relief, the apex predator didn’t mind all that much, nodding as the light was aimed away from her face and chuckling at the girl’s expression.
They may have smiled too, but she couldn’t quite make it out.
It seemed they wouldn’t be the only stranger visiting her either, though. The next bit of rustling outside was followed up on by an honest-to-gods Scizor stepping in, seemingly also taken aback by her. Somehow.
As the non-human occupants of the room exchanged words, even more of them showed up. The Luxray was probably the same one she saw yesterday—the glare of their gleaming eyes matched, at least. It was only brief, but it still left her chilled as they joined in on the ongoing discussion.
Yesterday, yesterday... trying to remember what had happened yesterday once that bubbly Azumarill left proved futile. There was smoke in the distance, Blossom was worried about it, and then… out cold. She was probably so exhausted after everything earlier, she just dozed off on the spot. With how abrupt her rest seemed to have been, though, even that idea didn’t quite fit. Before she could think through it any further, the next stranger stepped in, their entrance much less subdued than others.
The Decidueye was almost the Luxray’s polar opposite in the look they gave her. Her fear of their kin made it difficult to take in their positive attitude to the furthest extent, though. It definitely wasn’t as strong as it used to be with the warm impression Blossom had left yesterday, making her ‘only’ flinch backwards as the owl approached, cooing happily.
As unnerving as the situation was, Anne couldn’t deny it felt nice for someone to get happier at seeing her, for once. Whoever had shown up next seemed quite apprehensive about entering the room. Anne watched a few of the already present mons face the entrance in response to the canine woofs, but their source never revealed themselves.
Whether it was for the best, she didn’t yet know.
As nice as the Decidueye and as confusing as everyone else was, it was the last arrival that really brought relief to Anne’s confused mind. She turned her flashlight at the steadily creeping sunrise as the Gardevoir approached and greeted, “^Good morning, Anne! How are you feeling sweetie?^” Her dimly glowing red eyes had become a more comforting sight than the girl would’ve ever thought possible.
Anne herself might have been fine enough, but it paled in importance compared to who she had woken up next to. she held the asleep fox once more while she put the words together, all the emotions making it so much harder. “~Sh-she’s here, Ember’s here, she’s safe, she’s—~”
Anne’s sniffle cut her off before she could finish her sentence. She snuggled up closer to the fox as the joy of their reunion hit her once more, too powerful for words. The Gardevoir’s resulting pets were just as tingly and pleasant as she remembered them, making the girl squirm as she held onto her best friend.
“^Mhm! She’d been living with us for the past year. I apologize for not introducing you to each other earlier, but we weren’t sure whether she was really the Ember you knew. Thankfully, she... remembered you, and was overjoyed to see you again,^” Aria explained. Her words brought on emotional turmoil inside Anne, each small pet along Ember’s head helping her straighten her racing thoughts that bit more.
The firefox having been here all along was as much a relief as it was depressing. She lived less than an hour by bike away from someone she thought she’d never see again. It hurt to think about, filling her with regret for not even thinking to try looking. Hearing that Ember was just as happy to see her again forced many more happy tears out of Anne. She was so relieved her friend didn’t hold a grudge against her because of what her family had done to her, or at the pain of their eventual separation.
Both of those may have hurt her just as much as they did Ember, but she cared about the lil’ fox more.
“~I-I’m-*sniff*-I’m so glad to hear... Sh-she was so scared when I left her at the shelter, and-*sniff*-I w-was so worried she’d hate me for it...~”
Aria’s tingling, magical pets continued as she sat down on the bedding. She reassured, “^No, not at all. She loves you just as much as you love her, and I can feel that rather well~.^”
Anne scooted closer almost out of reflex, close enough to lean on the Gardevoir with her entire body as she held Ember tight, sniffling all the while. The remark at the end accomplished its intended purpose, making the girl giggle. She needed that more than words could tell, looking up at the Gardevoir teary-eyed. “~Th-thank you... is she alright? I-I think I shouted loudly earlier a-and she didn’t wake up...~”
Anne watched closely as Aria moved her hand from her forehead to Ember’s. A moment of focus resulted in a small, yet confident smile on Aria’s face, and an equally reassuring nod. “^She’s perfectly okay, just really, really tired after yesterday. It was a lot for all of us, her especially.^”
That made sense, at least.
Anne hugged the Braixen tight one last time before slowly letting go. As comforting as it was for her to dispense affection, this position couldn’t have been anywhere near as comfortable for Ember, now that she had evolved. She took her time in lowering the vixen onto the bedding beside her, giving her the entire pillow and much of the blanket.
It was chilly in here, yes, and letting go of Ember didn’t help with the goosebumps all over Anne’s body, but the fox deserved comfort right now more than ever. Her human could bear a little cold. Thoughts in that vein helped distract the girl from everything else going on in the room. The previous conversation had reignited in the meantime. And with all but Aria’s parts being audible and yet untranslated, it left Anne feeling on edge.
One that was constantly being melted through with the Gardevoir’s constant affection.
Thankfully, the whispered animal sound near-cacophony didn’t last long. Everyone but the Mismagius and Aria got going in not too long, and the final one to depart left a few passing words to the Gardevoir. She didn’t look like she liked what she’d heard as she turned to the girl once more, “^Anne?^”
“~Y-yes, Mrs. Aria?~”
“^Just ‘Aria’ is okay, sweetie. I was just thinking, actually. Would you like to meet my kids? I’ve a daughter that’s around your age and a much younger son, and they’re both rather excited to hear there’s a human in our little village. And, considering you’re not going away anytime soon, probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to meet some more people here~.^”
The offer came out of the left field, taking Anne aback.
On one hand, she wasn’t exactly good with meeting people, be they humans or mons. On the other, what M—Aria said also made sense. As frightening as that whole prospect was, it was a good idea to get started as soon as she could, and with someone she could expect to not be mean. Hopefully, they wouldn’t dislike her for any of the actually valid reasons either…
“~A-are you gonna be watching o-over us?~” Anne asked, not expecting the Gardevoir to be so surprised at her question.
“^Hmm... I have my duties to attend to, unfortunately. How about this—I ask my brother to watch over you all, and then I’ll come back in a few hours and rejoin you~? Maybe even with my husband, hah!^”
“~Okay, th-that sounds good. Does your b-brother know about m—~”
“^Yes he does. I’m sure he won’t mind helping out with this.^”
“~A-alright. What are they all like?~”
“^Well, my brother, Marco, is a bit more withdrawn than me. He may come off as cold, but give him a chance and he’ll warm up quickly. My daughter Cadence is really energetic and excited about meeting you. Don’t hesitate to tell her to slow down a bit if needed; she won’t mind. Bell is really little and just happy to meet a new friend, even if that friend is a bit different from others~. Elric will also be here; he’s a boy we’re looking out for while his dad hibernates. He’s shy at first, but really playful once you get past introductions.^”
The descriptions of Cadence and Elric left Anne worried about how well their personalities would end up meshing. She was the absolute furthest thing from energetic or physically playful, even before her injuries. And as much as she didn’t mind being a shy bookworm, that personality type might’ve been rather alien to this village, considering that books didn’t exist here.
Still, she had no way to know but to try. “~Okay! Wh-when are they gonna b-be here?~”
“^Once they wake up and have breakfast. Cypress here will keep you company until then, is that alright?^”
The namedrop made the girl look over at the Mismagius. They grew increasingly less scary as the sun rose, their small stature in particular dispelling much of Anne’s remaining worries. “~Yeah! Th-thank you. Oh, who were... e-everyone else here, the ones that have left by now?~”
“^They’re my coworkers, Anne. We all look out for the safety of our village and make sure that nobody dangerous stumbles on it, be it an angry predator that wants to hunt those less capable of self defense, or... well, a human,^” Aria explained. As much as she expected that latter addition to confuse the girl—or worse, upset her—it thankfully didn’t result in either. Anne just nodded in understanding, already aware of the threat that human awareness would pose to this village of mons.
Trainers were one thing, but… the risk went deeper than just them.
Anne distinctly recalled reading about something like this in a stuffy history book, one of many she’d gone through in her many years at Mrs. Graham’s library. An incident in Kalos some half century ago—a few dozen mons had moved into an abandoned human town. Based on a report written for a local newspaper at the time, they appeared to have been living in it much like humans did. They used the buildings the intended way, engaged in farming, stockpiled food. They even visited nearby human villages and bartered for useful items in exchange for the crops they grew.
Which was how the word of them eventually spread.
After a good couple years of growth, the news of them had made its way to a nearby city. As an unbelievable rumor, sure, but it was enough for the League to intervene. Within days, elite trainers had either captured or chased the village’s inhabitants away, making sure to level the buildings and poison the farmland in their wake. The official reason was to prevent wild mons from becoming a threat to nearby humans or themselves by misusing the buildings.
But those who were there knew better.
“~I-I see. But... why in this r-room? Was it about me?~”
Aria sighed heavily, unable to help but to confirm Anne’s hunch. “^Yeah, it was. But… we were just discussing where you’re gonna be staying once you recover,^” the Gardevoir explained, shuddering at the words. Thankfully, Anne was too distracted to pick up on it, letting Aria continue, “^I think it’s about time I got going and joined the others. There are some… important things we need to discuss in a more appropriate place. I’d hate to keep them waiting for too long.^”
“~Okay! H-have a nice day M—Aria!~”
With the final hair ruffle, Aria got up and headed out, her smile vanishing the moment she looked away. Her departure left the room in silence, only broken by muffled sounds from the next chamber over. Guess she could try to relax—
…
Huh?
While she had no delusions about the Mismagius’s inability to read, she at least expected them to have been examining the book she’d brought with herself when running away from home. That turned out to not be the case.
The realization took Anne aback, making her investigate just what this book was. Its front cover was someone’s reflection in a shattered mirror, with the cracks spreading radially from their right eye. Quite eye-catching, especially when combined with the title:
COMING TOGETHER: Recovery after trauma
A very… appropriate choice of book, but it didn’t shed any light on how in the world was it here to begin with. Anne only grew more confused by the moment, looking around the room to see where it might’ve come from—wait, where did those bags in the corner come from?
Was that one of Mrs. Graham’s old coats!?
Aria hated lying.
The moment she left Anne’s room, the Gardevoir had to take a breath and mentally reset. She regretted having to lie to this extent again, even if she knew it was preferable to the alternative. The last thing she wanted was to make her panic at the awareness that her life was dangling on the line drawn by a trio of old coots.
To deny her just one day of happiness, of being cared for and surrounded by friendly faces.
“Aria?”
Speaking of friendly faces.
The Gallade had already felt much better than the last time she’d seen him. Still in nowhere near a shape to return to scouting duties yet, but enough to bring a smile to his sister’s face. “^Morning, Marco. I’m alright, just… got lost in thought.^”
“You sure?” he asked.
No, no she wasn’t. But the rest of the scouts were likely already getting annoyed at her for taking so long, she didn’t have the time to go over every single little detail this terrible situation was woven out of. “^For the most part. Do you feel you’ll be able to come along and give your testimony about what you saw?^”
“For sure, meant to ask you about that. If they think they can decree Anne out of this place, then they’re wrong. Ember won’t let them and I for sure won’t let them, either,” Marco answered, stalwart.
“^That’s what I wanna hear! That aside, I… agreed for the kids to come over and meet Anne. She felt mostly positive about the idea, though we’d need someone to watch over them and be on the lookout for Cinder, just in case.^”
The Gallade blinked at his sister in confusion, very uncertain about how well he’d perform as a nanny. Then again, that was something he was in the state for—once he got a bit more rest at least—as opposed to any other duty he might have wanted to undertake instead. Including the latter part of what his sister had described.
“I-It’d be new for me, and I doubt I’ll be too good at it, but… I can give it a shot. Though, if Cinder comes, I-I doubt I’d b-be able to do anything a-about her...” he stammered, earning himself a telekinetic hug from his sister. The warmth made him squirm as he looked up at her, trying to cool himself down after the vixen’s mention.
“^We can ask Cypress to stay here for longer, then. It’s no big deal. And~ I think you’ll do fine at watching over Anne. She reminds me of you a lot really, just give her, and yourself, the time to warm up to each other,^” she reassured him.
“Th-thanks, I’ll try that...”
“^You got this, I believe in you~.^”
Marco gave Aria a shaky smile before wincing as he stretched and tried to scan his surroundings. The auras of Anne and Ember being so closely bonded brought an immediate smile to his face, one that wouldn’t wash off soon. “Th-thanks, sis. And, goodness, I had no idea what I was gonna see when Anne’s memories started flowing yesterday, but… the sheer love between them, it’s so sweet it’s almost cloying, isn’t it?”
“Hah! Knew it,” a high-pitched voice chuckled from nearby, self-satisfaction dripping from their voice. Both siblings looked further into the tent and blinked in unison at the smug expression on the tinkerer’s front face. Or, at least, the parts of it that weren’t covered in dressings and which didn’t have a cold bag tied to them.
“^...Mikiri?^” Aria asked, confused.
“Yeah~? Just saying I knew these two liked each other.”
As much as Aria wanted to roll her eyes at the half-truth—there was a ton more smugness there than just affirming one’s own hunch—the fact that the Mawile of all people knew it took her aback. As did her presence here, making her ask, “^Why are you here?^”
“Ask your brother. I was test driving a fixed version of the big human two-wheel with Ori when we had to emergency brake and it all fell apart and sent me tumbling. And then Ori went on about how I was bleeding and nagged me into coming here, and then the healers nagged me into staying the night because something something concussion something. I feel fine,” the Mawile explained. It sure was a quintessentially ‘annoyed Mikiri’ response, but it also only brought more questions with itself.
Aria didn’t have the time for any of them, aside from the most important one, “^Uh, huh. How did you know Anne and Ember liked each other?^”
“The weird thin painting, silly. I’m supposed to be the one that can’t communicate well, and even I picked up on that human and Ember being friends. All that Lumi could go on about when I showed it to him was yapping on about how the human abused her and other dumb nonsense. For all his fancy eyes, he sure can’t see for shit sometimes,” Mikiri chuckled, before going for the jugular, “Then again, considering how much meandering there apparently was between the scouts before anyone even considered that obvious fact, I’m not sure how much any of y’all are better at that.”
The worst part about the Mawile’s words was that Aria couldn’t even dispute them. She was right; their worried uncertainty looked patently absurd in hindsight. Then again, that was simply the magic of hindsight, wasn’t it?
“^It’s—it’s not always as simple as that when so much is on the line, Mikiri.^”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean y’all should go around trying to cram what you see into the box of your pre-existing biases and ideas as opposed to shaping the latter around the former,” the Mawile rebuked.
The siblings’ blank look had the metal fairy chuckle to herself, unfortunately aggravating her headache a bit.
“What~? I just pay attention to Jovan’s fancy-schmancy philosophizing from time to time. It has some useful tidbits like that, even if most of it is boring as mud.”
Perhaps it wasn’t a bad idea to attend some of those themselves some time instead of just trying to convince Cadence and Elric to check them out.
“^Seems so, yeah. Well, best we get going, the others are waiting for us,^” Aria said.
“Don’t let me hold you up any more, then. You gotta do what you gotta do to keep this place safe, and hopefully it won’t include a humanling getting torn away from Ember again.”
“^We’ll—we’ll try my best, Mikiri.^”
“I know that much—now off ya go!”
The Elders’ tent was far from lively at the best of times, and the weight of the situation hanging in the air only made it even gloomier. The present scouts were gathered in a loose semicircle around the central, sunken fire pit. Its gentle, steady flames may have kept the physical frost at bay, but did little to help with the emotional coldness.
Aria and Marco’s entrance had some less patient voices reacting with some variation of ‘finally’, making them roll their eyes as they took their seats; the Gallade leaning on his sister.
“^Apologies for the delay. A few things held us back,^” Aria said.
“None of them could’ve been as important as this! By Orion, such disrespect!” a raised, gurgling voice whined. It only gathered eye rolls in response, from most of the audience at that. The Breloom that had muttered it grumbled to himself afterwards, arms extending just long enough for him to cross them as he narrowed his beady eyes.
“^There’s a difference between importance and urgency, Elder Winnie. Comforting a scared child is more urgent, even if for some reason we think it more important to decide how we are going to make them suffer,^” Aria explained. Her words had most of the tent grow silent except for constantly grumbling Winnie, and the Torkoal beside him.
The Fire-type lifted herself up and walked a few steps forward before replying, voice low and slow, “I ask you to stay away from emotional language like that, Aria.”
The Gardevoir sighed as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. As much as she respected the Torkoal, she couldn’t deny her constant pretense of dispassionateness being annoying at times. Still, not something to whine about here and now. “^Understood, Elder Ana.^”
“Very well. Let us begin this session in earnest, then.”
As undignified as both the tent and the mons gathered inside it looked, the procedure was taken seriously. Everyone gathered tried to put their most objective foot forward, even if their opinions about this entire mess couldn’t be different if they had tried.
“The topics for discussion in this gathering are to be: the current situation about the human, Cinder’s involvement, and the decision of what shall we do with the human going forward. Are these accurate?” the Torkoal asked. Her gaze moved around the chamber, each other elder and scout like nodding in acknowledgement one after another. At least, until she’d made it to the very last person on her checkup. The Torkoal gave her a few more moments to hopefully realize what was going on, before resorting to speaking out loud, “Celia?”
Hearing her name finally took the Primarina out of her mute pondering, gaze jumping from a nondescript spot on the floor to her fellow Elder.
The dim, harsh lighting made the many scars adorning her face and arms especially visible. Her right flipper had only a single finger remaining, and she lacked any of the pearls or stars that typically adorned her kin’s heads. Much of the translucent fin and hair that sprouted behind it was missing from the left side of her head, too.
With a few strained motions, she pulled herself up to be in line with Winnie; the wheels of the cart that the rear half of her body rested on squeaking as they rolled a few paces. “Present. The topics do sound accurate,” she responded, voice just as smooth and soothing as it was the first time the present had heard it despite everything she’d been through.
“Very well, let us begin with discussing the current situation around the human. Aria, from what I know, you’ve had the most involvement with them. Could you catch us up with everything you’ve learned so far,” Ana asked.
Aria shuffled forward a couple feet as the Torkoal backed the same distance, and spoke, “^The human’s name is Anne. She’s a child of approximately the same mental age as Cadence. Two days ago, before dawn, Sprout had spotted her having fallen into the ravine close to the human path, and rushed her into the village because of her grievous injuries. She would not have survived being flown to the nearest human healer—and that’s if we even knew where the healers were located inside their massive town.^”
As Aria picked her next words, she saw the Primarina’s gaze go wide in shock before jumping over to the dirt beside her. Odd, but she didn’t have the time to pay the Elder further attention before the Torkoal spoke up, “Sprout, can you vouch for Aria’s words?”
“Yep I can, Elder Ana.”
“Proceed as you were.”
“^Anne first woke up yesterday morning. I tried to fool her into thinking she was in a human hospital, but eventually she saw through my lies and panicked. I then told her the truth about the village, as myself, to find out more about what led to her crashing in the ravine,^” Aria explained.
The corner of the Winnie’s mouth twitched. He clearly wanted to interject at this point—and loudly at that—but reined himself in to preserve decorum. Celia was back to staring at the dirt, eyes wide and yet focused as her left flipper covered her mouth. Ana remained as stone faced as ever, though that was more so because of her anatomy than anything else. Her veneer of objectivity was taking significant effort to maintain in light of Aria’s actions, the fact only apparent to the Gardevoir. “C-continue.”
“^Her crash resulted from her having attempted to run for her life away from her abusive family. It was an unplanned, exhausted act of desperation. She has no relatives she can trust to provide her a safe shelter, and no home to go back to.^”
“Elaborate on that latter point,” Ana requested.
“^I’m speaking both figuratively and literally. Her parents have abused her to the point of physical harm, and the building of her house has burned down.^”
All the elaboration had accomplished was making the gathered blink in confusion, uncertain how Aria could even claim to know the latter. The briefest sign of a raised eyebrow crept onto Ana’s expression, before it disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. “Explain how you know that.”
This is where things got trickier to justify.
Aria took another moment to clear her mind and glance at Lumi, the latter nodding at her as she got her thoughts in order. He might’ve been cranky and crass, but his loyalty was undeniable.
“^Yesterday afternoon, Lumi had alerted me to a human from their nearby town being on the lookout for Anne. Me and Marco interrogated her, at which point she turned out to be someone Anne trusted. She, Olive, felt obliged to search for Anne in light of her disappearance.^”
Now the contentious part.
“^Considering Anne’s situation and uncertain future, I asked her to help us with any human necessities that Anne might need—with us removing any memories of that encounter afterwards, of course. She agreed and provided invaluable insight and support, including much clothing that had belonged to her.^”
Aria kept her eyes closed, knowing full well the kinds of glares she was getting.
“^We visited Anne’s old house to take any remaining clothing she had left behind. As we were doing so, Anne’s father showed up and attacked us. I incapacitated him in response. He was extremely aggressive, resorting to physical violence without provocation, and we have good reasons to believe he acted similarly towards Anne.^”
The silence in the tent was thick enough to cut with a knife. Even Celia’s azure eyes were staring at her, though not without any less intense a thought stream behind them.
“...Lumi, can you vouch for Aria’s words?” Ana asked, no less dumbstruck than others.
“Aye.”
“Proceed as you were.”
“^As we talked to her, Anne kept mentioning an ‘Ember’, a Fennekin she lived and grew up with. She regarded them as very close friends that she had to part ways with because of tragic circumstances. We also found a lifelike artwork depicting our Ember, but younger, together with Anne, among her possessions. When asked, Ember denied remembering anyone like Anne.^”
As Aria wrapped up her line, she glanced over her shoulder at Marco; the Gallade nodding intently while rolling his shoulders. “^I ask that Marco be allowed to provide his perspective here, as he was the one to solve this mistery.^”
“Granted.”
The Gardevoir passed her brother a couple telepathic pats on the back as he scooted forward to take her spot. His body ached, but it wouldn’t be like him to not push through it. As he gathered words, his sister looked around the room, tallying up how everyone felt about the situation so far. Almost everyone remained focused, even Lumi and Winnie, to her surprise. Sure, in their case, it was tainted with some level of dismissiveness, but their attention was held all the same.
Hopefully, they’d be able to evoke the reaction they wanted from them. Something that Aria sadly thought much less possible from the one scout who didn’t even bother stepping into Anne’s room earlier.
Lariat wasn’t known for being talkative, sure, but his present silence went beyond that. His expression remained the same stoic flatness as always, one with no thought behind it to add texture. As far as the Lucario was concerned, he already knew what to do before hearing any specifics. Not even because of any sense of misguided intelligence, no.
Humans weren’t like them, would never be like them. Not a moral judgment, but a perfectly black and white categorization of an ingroup and an outgroup, one which couldn’t be argued against with emotions alone.
“Ahem. After apprehending Olive and passing her off to Aria and Lumi, I thought to ask Ember if she could remember Anne. This backfired—she had a panic attack, and Cinder s-struck me in anger,” Marco said. His dry, croaking voice came perilously close to cracking, but ultimately held. “I thought my investigation was done for, but then… Ember ran over to catch up with me. She still didn’t remember anything about Anne, but my question made her aware of something being wrong with her memory. She then asked to see in Anne in person.”
Both siblings felt doubt flash through the surrounding minds at that claim. Not something they could blame them for, but ultimately, it didn’t matter.
“Continue.”
“I escorted Ember to the clinic and ensured Anne wouldn’t see her. The moment she saw Anne, though, she froze up in panic at feeling that ‘something wrong with her memory’ much more clearly. From my perspective, it felt as if all memories of just Anne had been removed from her recollection, which my intervention then undid.”
More hesitation—how could it have been? That wasn’t like their Ember, shouldn’t have been like their Ember.
“As a result of my intervention, myself, Ember, Anne, and Autumn fainted. From the healers’ testimony, Ember woke up first, immediately laid down beside Anne, hugged her, wouldn’t let go when asked, and fell asleep. Following that, we discovered Cinder had fled the village between me speaking to her and Sprout scanning the area for her.”
The reactions to the finished tale varied.
Disbelief, anger at Cinder, shock at Ember having done something so drastic, astonishment. Winnie briefly broke through his grumpy resting expression into genuine concern for Ember; Celia’s eyes went wide as she kept covering her mouth with her flipper, thoughts racing, and Ana… Ana closed her eyes, lowered her head in defeat, and muttered to herself, bringing the tent into a stone-cold silence, “And so it is...”
The other Elders’ attention snapped to Ana in an instant, neither having any idea what she meant. Scouts were similarly keen on figuring it out, growing increasingly displeased at what they were internally accusing her of.
“What... do you mean by that, Elder Ana?” Sprout asked, having enough composure to keep her words neutral—even if not her tone. Her wings itched—there was something very wrong going on in here. What happened to Ember was a disgrace, a betrayal at the hands of her own guardian, and the one person everyone expected to be objective and rational knew something about it. The fiery tortoise kept pondering in response, making the Decidueye’s expression twist into a snarl. “Elder Ana—”
“I am thinking, Sprout.”
“What is there to be thinking about!? A little one had her mind violated to erase what sounds like the only friend she’d had prior to finding her way here, and you seem to know somethin’ about that!” the owl shouted.
“It is not as simple as that—”
“Then what is it!?”
A low, frustrated grumble left the Torkoal in response. As much as she loathed being hurried along, and was of half a mind to chew Sprout out for that outburst, she knew better than to go against the crowd like this. Especially with this emotional an issue.
There was only so much nice wording could do to conceal a sad, unsightly truth.
“Four hundred and five days ago, the group Ember was a part of first stepped foot into our village. Twenty-one days later, Cinder approached me with a dilemma,” Ana began. Aside from the crackling of flame, the tent remained dead silent. “Ember had been getting better at that point. She was recovering from her injuries, making friends, and growing more comfortable thinking of Cinder as her mother. And yet, she still suffered immensely. Because someone she’d known and loved her entire life, someone she wanted to comfort and save, was still suffering in their personal hell.”
Ana’s posture shrunk, regret making it oh-so-difficult to keep going.
“Ember didn’t know why they had abandoned her, but she didn’t care. She was somewhere safe now, and her friend still suffered. She begged Cinder to rescue that friend so that they may be safe here with us. Every single day. She even begged me, the few times Cinder had enabled communication between us in these early days.”
But, of course, that friend was a human.
“We didn’t know what to say. We tried to explain to her it wasn’t possible, and that there was nothing we could do. Our explanations were about as successful as trying to argue a river into changing course. Ember was deaf to them, as she was right to be, for we were both lying, even if that’s not how we thought about it. To permit a human to live with us feels like a heresy even now—back then, it was simply unimaginable.”
And yet, Ember kept pleading, every single day.
“Cinder didn’t know what to do. We have exhausted every avenue of rational argumentation and made no progress. All she knew was that her daughter was hurting, and she wanted her to not hurt anymore,” Ana recalled, remembering that day with perfect clarity. The sheer expression of defeat on Cinder’s face, the awareness of just how immoral her idea was.
And yet, it was the only one they had.
“I… advised her against her idea. But, if it was my little one, and I had been the one unable to help them… I don’t know. It’s not a position anyone should ever have to experience the misery of, on either end.”
The silence that followed only lasted a few tense moments. The Decidueye wasn’t as seething as she was before, but she was still cross as she said, “Regardless of Ember hurting or not, what made Cinder think she had the right to control her daughter like that!?”
Before the Torkoal could respond, a different, slyer voice joined the chorus of opposition, “Whether it was love or malice, Ember was still hurt all the same in the end, wasn’t she?”
And then another still, cold and pointed. “^Nor does it explain her outburst at Marco.^”
“Sprout, Ruby, Aria, I do not know. Cinder’s sins are her alone to atone for. I am not excusing them. I merely want it clear that she had not done them out of malice. She will answer for her assault, she will answer for attempting to obstruct you. If nobody else, Ember will hold her accountable for having her memories tampered with.”
As angry as the gathered were at the Delphox, they knew they had the chance to solve the impossible dilemma that had led to her actions in the first place. Sprout spoke up once more, out of any semblance of order, pointing the obvious solution out, “Then let’s vote for Anne to remain here, and avoid forcin’ anyone else to even consider doing the fucked up things Cinder has ever again!”
“A sad story doesn’t make a HUMAN living here acceptable, for Orion’s sake!” Winnie shouted.
“^With all due respect, Elder Winnie—shut up. Her soul is no different from ours just because she’s a human.^”
“That is blatantly absurd, Aria,” Lariat growled, dumbfounded.
His words earned him a few pointed stares, one of them not hesitating to speak up, “Is it now, Lariat? Do you really want to claim she’s inherently evil?”
“This conversation is not about abstract philosophy, Ruby. It is about the material danger posed to us by that human having knowledge of us and being able to leave—”
“We all know much more than Anne does, and yet we’re free to walk, Ori. Why would she betray the only place that had offered her safety—”
“You know how humans are, Marco, why wouldn’t you think th—”
“Ahem.”
Despite it only being a clearing of her throat, Celia’s Disarming Voice wasn’t any less effective as a result.
The escalating shouting match was defused in an instant; the room’s undivided attention was now squarely on the Primarina. Her eyes scanned the room—as if counting—before she spoke once more, now in her normal tone, “I doubt any further argument today will be productive. Considering the importance of this decision as a precedent, I reckon we ought to delay the vote until all scouts are present. It would also give us time to give the situation the thought it deserves.”
Even once the immediate effects of the Disarming Voice had worn off, nobody in the tent was in the mood for any more fighting. One by one, a chorus of nods answered Celia, regardless of what position each participant thought that having more time would push the rest towards.
“Perfect. How does tomorrow’s twilight sound in terms of an appropriate date and hour?” the Primarina asked. Once again, no vocal objections. “Let it be so, then. Make haste spreading the news to the rest of the scouts, and may tomorrow bring us closure.”
With the atmosphere in the room defused, Ana stepped forward to catch everyone’s attention, hoping to close the session. Right as she was about to speak up, though, Celia cut in once more, words aimed squarely at Aria as opposed to the ground before her, “Aria? I have one request in particular for tomorrow’s session. Considering your closeness to the human, you are the best equipped person in the village to fulfill it.”
A jolt of dread shot through the Gardevoir’s horns at being addressed directly like that. She had no idea what the other Fairy-type was expecting from her—aside from maybe being prepared to administer a memory wipe as soon as they done with the verdict.
The mere thought made her want to scream.
“^How could I help, Elder Celia?^” she asked.
“I wish Anne be brought over, so that the Elders could ask her questions directly. I would be the one translating for her.”
As confident as Celia was in her idea, it was clearly the other Elders’ first time hearing it. Their uncertainty was clear on their faces—though, as they thought about it, they realized they both had some personal questions they’d ideally have the girl answer in person.
Aria shuddered as Ana and Winnie affirmed the request. Both at the logistics of moving Anne over, and at the cruelty of exposing her to a band of strangers verbally arguing about her being worthy of living.
“^I hope you aren’t expecting me to subject her to hearing every single argument against her personhood—^”
“No, no such thing. She can stay unaware of the actual discussion, or even of her purpose there. I just want to have a brief chat with her before we get into the voting proper,” Celia clarified.
Guess Aria could do that much, even if she really, really didn’t want to. She didn’t want Anne to panic once she realized what’s going on. Though, it’d also be on her to keep the worst of the details away from her attention, then. “^I’ll try, Elder Celia.^”
“Perfect. Thank you, Aria. You can proceed, Ana.”
A few short rounds of the ceremony later, it was over.
As the scouts departed the Elders’ tent and headed for their duties, the uncomfortable truth of what they’ve learned about the Delphox weighed down on her minds. It, together with the unbearable weight of tomorrow’s decision, pushing them further into dissociation—be it by performing their scouting duties, or otherwise.
Aria fared no better.
Once she’d said her goodbyes to Marco, she turned towards the woods surrounding their village—and then; her patrol path. As she did, one hope burned brighter than the rest, bouncing around her head with her every step.
I hope you know what you’re doing, mom.
